SpoofOfDreams wrote:Okay. I'm getting back to work on this. I was motivated by my unconditional love of the USSR to get back to this.
So here's a short chapter.
Parawar wasted a lot of time. After a short talk with Alucard, she got her stuff together and began to play Tetris. A rather hard game, made primarily of using Russian workers to spin falling blocks around until they fit in the ground like a hand in a glove, sometimes she sees that she has misjudged it, she shouldn't have nudged the block after all, lord knows why they felt a need to train recruits by making them play Tetris, but who's going to complain? It's one of the most addicting games in the world, so it served a purpose after all.
She found a tent in the training camp she was supposed to be and set up shop, which for her meant a few books on how to reach level fifty, her plastic lawn chair, a small Japanese coffee table, a small, rat dropping infested mat with which to sleep on, and a sickle, an object to keep her grounded in reality. An object to remind her of her past, and why she fights.
She sets her Gameboy on her table, and then departs to get started. She was going to announce that she was the second commander for the motley crew poised to reclaim their land. She was told to make a speech by Her Great Master Alucard, much to her unexpressed chagrin, at least until she reached her tent and let out a long, exasperated sigh. But she was able to make a few more lines of unfinished rows, hoping that she would do well.
She walked out of her tent and into the mess hall. The mess hall was the
nicest cittiest (pronounced shi-ttiest) place in the building, which wasn't exactly deserving of an HGTV special. A building the same size of a school cafeteria and similar in interior, it was covered in modern food warfare and if it got too cold, that was a good alternative to caves. No one noticed her walk in, her being a ninja and all, so she took the time to silently observe the crowd, and was surprised by the diversity, particularly in age. People as young as teens and as old as recent senior citizens. This surprised her and left her inspired that her army wasn't row after row of strapping young men as stiff as a happy man's train car. She also spotted several women in the crowd, not as many as men, and most of them were doing their jobs as slaves. She noticed a lot of conversation, both jovial and solemn, and she was happy to see an army of such humanity.
Around 5 minutes after people walked in, Parawar decided it was time to speak. She glanced to her right at the entrance to the kitchen and saw a large crate. On the crate was printed “No Clone of a super-badas
derps hiding in here. No siree.” She smiled at the irony and pulled it over to the front of the cafeteria.
Raising her voice above the crowd, she started with “May I have your attention please?”
Someone shouted "GO ♥♥♥♥ A DONKEY, I STOLE YOUR GAMEBOY AND SOLD IT FOR VODKA." as they noticed her voice.
“Thank you kindly.” she said with a slight nod. She took a breath and started, reciting her speech from her brilliant memory.
“In the coming few days, we will be entering the final stretches of our war. We will be heading home. A home that seems so unfamiliar to us now. A home most of us may not even remember. To some, even the layout of their neighborhood is lost on us. But not on me.”
“I live in the outskirts of Volgograd, on the edge of the wall. A wall that now prevents us instead of protects us. There was a quaint mini-mart a block or two down, at the base of a small skyscraper. 50 feet tall if I remember correctly. The mini mart was quaint, not a truck-stop 7-11 on the side of the highway less traveled. It was nicely decorated and a warm place to be in. It was owned by Roman Grebennikov, an artistic person. Most didn't like him, since he was one to argue often and had odd tendencies, but I could really appreciate his artistic soul unlike most. He was a true friend, a brilliant person to talk to, and a kindred spirit. We would sit at the table he set up in front of the soda machine and spend the day talking. I never saw him outside of the store, but I found myself spending an uncommon amount of time in it.
“I haven't seen him since the invasion. I presume he died in the midst of it all. I know most of us have experienced a loss similar to mi-"
"GO SUCK SOMEBODIES ROOSTER, CHICKENHEAD." A random black guy called out.
"....As I was saying, we can take the feelings that still linger 3 years later and turn it into motivation. Motivation to stop the madness and suffering for us all. While I've always been fond of the caves, I've come to realize that home meant more to me than I knew.
“A year and a half ago, MiaF and I sneaked into the city by Volgograd, to disable the gate and make our way into the city. I saw my old house.” she added with her voice notably shaking. “My house that I tried to create myself but was unsuccessful on a massive scale. I first met Mic when he designed it for me. It was in shambles. A product of the Bot's insane deeds. Covered with an advertisement for freecreditscore.com. Their new band is total crap.
“MiaF was a great leader, and a treasured soul, but the more time we spend dwelling on our loss, the weaker at heart we become. We must keep optimistic. We must not look to seek revenge for MiaF, we must long for our home. Our houses. Our mini-marts. "
"MINI MARTS ARE A WASTE OF MONEY AND LAND." A sensible senior citizen called out.
“And now I have an opportunity to lead us to victory. The Great Supreme Lord of my Life Alucard is the best man I shall ever meet, but he tends to lead a tight ship. As much as I love him, I want to lead not an army, but a family. A family of soldiers who are beyond maybes, but wills. Will reclaim. Not maybe, never maybe.
“I am going to raise you all with compassion. With the knowledge that you are going through a hard time and the passion you have. Commander Ace left us with a great advantage, but we are far from a cheat code into our city. The way we'll be playing this game, there is no cheat code. A day will never me long enough to completely destroy the army and capture their programmers, but I will train you to overcome. And I will promise that I will do whatever I can to make sure that most, if not all of us survive this battle. It pains me to day that we will most likely suffer losses, but I will exert a lifetime of passion to make sure we get out alive.
“And so, I lead with not only experience and passion, but with a promise. We are going to win. I will not let it be any other way.
Thank you.”
She retired off her completely inconspicuous not a guy is hiding under there box, and went to get a meal. She was surprised to hear a large round of applause behind her. She beamed with a smile and a tear as she grabbed a tray and begun to pick crumbs off the ground.
The lights started to dim slowly, so Parawar retired to her tent. She enjoyed a peaceful yet social dinner, conversing politely with other recruits. She had a feeling she would learn a lifetime from them.
She took a seat and wrapped herself up with a WTF Blanket. She wasn't enthusiastic to own it, but it was the only way to read warm, especially in a tent. She'd never admit it, but she was always fond of sitting in her chair, reading her book, warm as a patch of sand on a partly cloudy day.
Suddenly, she felt a dull pain on the surface of her stomach. Surprised, she wrote it off as a reaction to the earthy stew she had for dinner. But then it happened again. Not a long pain, but a sudden kick.
Kick.
She instinctively put a hand on her stomach, and waited for it to happen again. It did, hitting the surface of her stomach and her hand.
She smiled and looked over at her ring. And then she started to cry. She was given a promise, a promise he couldn't keep. She had said that they could not dwell on the loss, but she felt as if she would feel the sting of it forever.
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So yeah, here's a chapter. And I do plan on making a few cosmetic changes to the story in order to make it marketable to people outside of Runouw.com, turn myself into one of those goddamn sellouts with no respect for their story or fanbase, and maybe change a plot device cosmetically while retaining the same movement.
Changing names from usernames to normal nouns as names and proper names. Marioisafool254 will become his current name of Eric Clapton, Parawar will become Pattie Boyd , Runouw will become John Hancock, Azn will become Jet Li, Buffooner will become Hans Gruber , Dark Yoshi will become Stu Pit, and and Highwire will become Jon Stewart.
The idea of spambots and slummers will become invaders. I will capitalize on the fact that John Hancock's/Runouw's city was capitalized on free enterprise community-based government, or his attempt at a successful, practical and uncorruptable communism, probably in Kentucky. However, several parts of the nation, albeit not too much, are afraid that this will turn into USSR-type communism, which it did, and invade their land. There will still be walls around the city, and the epicroll will still ruin our lives, but most other details will be reformed.
The caves will take place in the Mammoth Caves of Kentucky.
Also, I'm taking Tank-Driving Classes, probably at a college. Maybe someday far off into the future you'll be seeing Legacy a guy reading a book on top of a tank?
heh. Sorry about this guy's death, folks. Not Really.